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may have a place in a corner of their carriage as an agreeable travelling companion, dispel the ennui of a rainy day, and on their relurn to the free fair homes of England,“ be considered not unworthy to occupy a prominent situation on the drawing room or library table.



A Scottish gentleman of the name of Farquhar went, a few summers ago, to a town on the north coast of France, with the intention of passing some weeks there. The morning after his arrival, he went to a banker's to get his English money changed for French. He afterwards took a walk about the town, and visited the quays and the pier, and then strolled on the sands. After walking about for some time, he went into a shop, and, putting his hand into his pocket to pay for some trifling article, found that he had lost his purse. It contained all the money he had with him, and he knew that, if he could not recover it, he should be reduced to very uncomfortable embarrassments before he could receive any remittances from Edinburgh. He attempted to retrace his steps, in the forlorn hope that he should see it lying on the ground. But after fatiguing himself for some time in vain, he returned to his hotel in a very disconsolate mood; and made his disaster known to the landlord. The landlord advised him to lose no time in stating the circumstance to the préfet, the chief magistrate, or a sort of mayor, of the town. The préfet received Mr. Farquhar with the politeness which a Frenchman always shows to a stranger, and promised to render him every assistance in his power; and he immediately dispatched officers of police to make enquiries in all parts of the town, and also to observe if any poor person was seen to spend any considerable or unusual sum of money. He then desired Mr. Farquhar to come again the next day, when he should be informed of the result of these enquiries. Mr. F. then went back to the inn to his dinner,

for which the reflection that he had no present means of paying for it somewhat spoiled his appetite.

We must here leave him at his melancholy meal, and go to a little cabin by the sea - side, inhabited by Pierre Leroux, a poor fisherman. We shall find nobody at home but Katrine his wife, if, indeed, we can call her at home, when her thoughts were absent with her husband and her two fine boys, who had gone out early in the morning to fish, and whose lengthened absence was beginning to fill her with apprehension. „Ah, my poor Pierre," said she to herself, „how he risks his life day after day in that old boat! Surely something must have happened. If he had but a better boat, I should not mind so much; but this is such a worn out leaky thing. Oh! if we had but money to buy another, or, at least, to get this mended. But the children, poor things, must be fed, though ever so poorly, and the boys must have jackets, and all the money we can spare goes to mending the nets which are getting old and bad. Oh dear! a fisherman's life is a dreadful life, particularly with an old leaky boat!“

Here her soliloquy was interrupted by the entrance of her daughter Janneton, a little half-clad, barefooted girl, of about eight years old, whose tattered habiliments were set off, according to the fashion of


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